You Won't Have Jarret To Kick Around, Etc.

May 1, 2011: So this is what I get for trying to help -- some weird anonymous ninny whom I've never heard of backhandedly criticizing my Blah-ugh! (and me!), and none of my so-called loyal followers -- friends ... Ha! -- even raising one typing finger to come to my pitiful defense ...

So there you go! All I wanted to do was make you laugh, and perhaps more importantly express the inexpressible by raising my voice so you wouldn't have to ... Say the things you wanted to say, but may have been too scared or too uncomfortable to. This Blah-ugh! exists merely to spare you the embarrassment of having to make fun of the Prince, or racial stereotype, or say nasty things about your mother. I'm willing to put myself on the line and call your mother's bluff, so you won't have to.

And have I done it within the cowardice of anonymity (although that might have been smarter in the long run), like the oblique "Follower" who festers within my archives? No, I stand behind my words with that fetching picture, meaning what I say and saying what I mean, like the phone company, who said they'd shut off our service and did ... And sometimes I'm even said it mean, when I felt it was worth the balance of wit and wisdom and the potential hurt feelings of the filthy rich, famous and ultimately uninterested ... See, such risks I take, and not for me ... For you!

But where are you, dear reader, through all of this?! Have you taken the time to phone around for an agent for me? Have you contacted magazine editors you know, or book publishers, urging them to bring attention to my woebegone talents and tenacity? Have you spread the word about this Blah-ugh! or worked to drum up publicity for the publication of my first novel, which currently sits sadly on the shelf waiting for you to do something about it?!

Nein. Instead you've sat idly by and let such weird philosophers as you'll see somewhere below write long (and rather dull) answers to my probing questions and commentary. You've let them humiliate me, you see, and right here on my own Blah-ugh! Shame, shame, I say, for you may have not thought about it recently, but I don't get paid to grind out this crap. I do it to make you happy. Yes, you!

I can only hope that the next time you see your favorite writer (and I mean me, and you know I mean me, and you know it's true, so don't pretend!) being belittled (directly and indirectly) by anonymous scoundrels like this perpetrator, I hope you'll come to his defense and not make him devote an entire (rather flat) entry to figuratively spanking you!

As for that dodo who wrote that needling fatuous fluff in response to my sharp-witted bile -- I suggest you stop reading this Blah-ugh! altogether and spend your time watching Fox News, for which your cold, clouded sense of humor is far better suited. I mean it. This Blah-ugh! is not for the feint of heart, and if you can't stand the heat, I don't want you in my kitchen!

As for the rest you, you'd better pick up your support, and fast. Otherwise you won't have Jarret L. to kick around anymore!